Learning Curve
by gldnwrtr
Summary: Post Judas on a Pole. BB and AH romance. Our Bones characters discover that learning to let go, and let love, certainly has its challenges. Graphic content in some chapters, so mature readers only, as in 18 and up. Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: These characters are the property of FOX--but they have escaped to have a little fun with me.

Summary: Post "Judas on a Pole." Dual-pairing story featuring Brennan/Booth and Angela/Hodgins. Some chapters include erotica, so mature readers only!

"_**Learning Curve"**_

**The Diner**

"Toast everyone, toast!" Jack Hodgins called for attention while clinking his fork against his bottle of Newcastle. All around the table, hands raised bottles and glasses and smiled broadly at the young man sitting at the far end of the table.

"Here's to Doctor Addy, may he go on to do great things—including buying a better fitting suit!" Jack toasted, grinning at his fellow scientist.

"Here, here," added Booth, who, seated next to the man-of-the-hour, treated him to a hearty slap on the back.

"C'mon you guys, stop teasing Zach," admonished Angela, giving Jack a sharp nudge with her elbow. "We are _so_ proud of you," she said, turning to her new colleague, the emotion rising in her voice.

"And no one is prouder than I am," added Brennan sincerely, placing a hand over Zach's own.

Doctor Zach Addy, fresh from achieving his doctorate and being offered a position at the Jeffersonian, flushed with embarrassment and pleasure at being the center of attention. "Thank you, thank you everyone," he began, fumbling nervously with his napkin, "I hope that I can make a positive contribution to the field of forensic anthropology—just like Dr. Brennan." He gazed shyly at his former teacher with a look of admiration.

"Of course you will," Brennan agreed, squeezing his hand in encouragement.

Zach continued to bask in their praise, but suddenly remembered something that he needed to do. "If you'll excuse me," he said, standing up, "I have to make a phone call—I need to tell my parents the big news. My dad told me to call him as soon as I found out about the job…"

"Your father will be very proud of you," offered Booth, smiling up at Zach as the young man walked away with cell phone open to make the call home.

His eyes traveling beyond Zach, Booth noticed Brennan's own smile fade and a dark shadow cross her delicate features. He realized then that he had said the wrong thing—wrong at least to say in front of Brennan considering the events of the previous days.

Jack and Angela also paused, looking with concern at Brennan.

"What? Why is everyone looking at me?" asked Brennan sharply, trying to wipe away a tear that was forming at the corner of one eye. "I'm fine--you don't need to monitor your conversation around me." Yet despite her assurances, she stood up and headed for the door.

Angela began to move in Brennan's direction, but Jack held her back. "Let Booth go," he advised, nodding toward the FBI agent. Booth took the cue, and raised himself to follow Brennan.

Alone now at the table, Angela turned to Jack, the irritation evident in her voice, "She's my best friend. I think _I_ should have gone after her."

Jack stared into Angela's eyes and spoke frankly, "If you want them to get together, you need to let _Booth_ be her best friend--and beside," he added quickly, "you need to come home with me tonight. It's been two days and… well… I miss you."

"You know I was doing my artist friend a favor by teaching her night class for her while she was out of town," Angela reminded him. "Besides, didn't I tell you to come over afterwards? We could have been shagging like bunnies the last two nights."

"I don't want it to only be about the sex," Jack replied, exasperated. "I want to spend time with you, Angela—vertical as well as horizontal time." He took her hand, playing with the rings on her fingers. "That's why I think we need to get out of town together for awhile. We both have vacation time coming, and we can go anywhere you want… Paris, Madrid, Zimbabwe, the Himalayas, Dollywood?" he grinned at her hopefully.

Angela, touched by the appeal in his voice and the openness in his eyes, paused before answering, "I don't know Jack, I mean, it's kind of soon to be thinking of going away together, isn't it?" She didn't believe her own words as she spoke them, and knew that he didn't either.

"What is it you're afraid of, Angela? That I'm going to end up a skeleton in the desert like your last meaningful relationship? Or that this might actually end up _becoming_ a meaningful relationship?" Jack felt the frustration rising, and struggled to keep the anger out of his voice.

"Jack, Sweetie…" Angela answered uncomfortably, his accusations a little too close to the truth, "Can we talk about this later?" He was looking away from her, his face set like stone, so she moved toward him to nuzzle his neck, adding, "I _do_ want to be with you, and I want to come home with you tonight. You need to be patient with me… okay?"

"You're speaking to me like I'm a child," Jack responded grudgingly, his voice softening. After a second, he finally turned his face to nuzzle her in return.

"That's because most men are, Hodgins, and you're no exception," Angela teased, happy to have lightened the moment and restored the intimacy between them again. "And I'm glad you sent Booth after Brennan. You know, I worry about her—she can be about as clueless as a stick of wood."

"Not a very generous appraisal coming from her so-called _best friend_," Jack chuckled.

"Yeah, but you know I'm right," Angela insisted, sighing into his shoulder as she thought of Brennan and the happiness that in the past always seemed to elude both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Conversation in the Car**

"I'm just saying that it was a stupid thing for me to say to Zach considering what you've just been through," Booth tried to apologize for the third time. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, staring straight ahead, frustrated that she wouldn't acknowledge his blunder, or her reaction to it.

Next to Booth, Brennan leaned her head on her hand and stared out the passenger side window, stubbornly silent.

"I mean, you could just admit that it bothered you a little, couldn't you?" he persisted, glancing at her profile briefly before continuing. "Cut yourself a little slack, Bones. You've been through more in the last few days than most people go through…"

"Ever," Brennan finished his sentence for him, finally turning to look at him. "I don't know why you bother, Booth. You come running after me like it's going to do any good. I'm obviously too damaged to be fit company even at my own former grad student's celebratory luncheon."

Booth took his eyes off the road long enough to meet her eyes. They were welling with tears once again, and she looked miserable.

"I bother, Bones," he began, hesitating, "I bother because…" Booth faltered, unable to finish his statement. He knew it was the same question he had asked himself countless times before. Why did he bother? What was it about her that at once fascinated, yet frightened him? He had become increasingly attracted to her physically, but that was completely understandable given her fine bone structure and feminine curves. What man wouldn't be attracted to her? On the other hand, her logical way of looking at things could make her seem so damned… masculine, at times. However, right now was not one of those times, and Booth found himself wanting to infiltrate the soft, emotional depths she was trying so hard to conceal.

"I bother because I care," he was able to finish, reaching out a hand to her, but still looking ahead at the road. His open palm hung empty in the space between them for several seconds before he finally felt her small hand slip into his hesitatingly.

"Thanks," she admitted softly, giving in.

Booth felt an incredible surge of tenderness for her, and decided to press further. "Hey, let me take you to dinner. I don't think either of us should be alone tonight."

There was amusement in Brennan's voice when she answered, "We just had lunch. And since when do you have to worry about being alone?"

He knew she was referring to Doctor Saroyan, and that was another question that had begun to gnaw at him lately. Booth decided to be evasive on that one. "I meant later—dinner later. We haven't been to Wong Foo's in awhile…" he drifted off, thinking she would turn him down. Instead, she surprised him.

"Wong Foo's sounds nice. I have some work to finish at the lab, but I could be ready to leave relatively early tonight," Brennan answered, looking out the window again.

Booth noticed that their hands were still joined. He looked at her and she turned her head to meet his eyes. For the briefest of moments, something passed between them. He saw the color rise to her cheeks, and at the same moment a flush of warmth seemed to pass through her fingertips into his own. The next thing he knew she had pulled her hand out of his, and he was conscious that not only did he miss the contact, but that his heart was thumping with unusual intensity.

They finished their ride to the Jeffersonian in silence.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Jeffersonian: Later that Afternoon**

Zach entered the lab still in celebratory spirits, escorted by Hodgins and Angela who were still taking delight in calling him _"Dr. Addy"_ every few seconds. They didn't notice that the lab was strangely empty for this time of day.

"And what is _Dr. Addy's_ first order of business going to be?" continued Angela, affectionately linking her arm through Zach's.

"Yeah, what is _Dr. Addy_ going to do now that he has to give orders instead of receive them? Think you're up to the task, Buddy?" Jack ribbed him, taking his other arm.

Zach smiled broadly, trying to come up with a witty rejoinder. Before he could respond, Dr. Saroyan intercepted the trio and answered for him.

"_Dr. Addy_ is going to turn around and go home for the day," Cam stated, appropriating Zach from his co-workers and steering him around to face the exit. "You are all going home early."

"Why?" they chorused as one, looking at Cam in confusion.

"Don't you people read your emails?" Cam scolded, hands on hips. "We're scheduled for routine maintenance on the alarm system this afternoon. They're shutting down this whole wing of the museum. We've got about thirty minutes until they need the premises cleared."

"Now that's the best news I've heard all day," began Jack, delighted. "--except of course your news, _Dr. Addy_…" he added, giving Zach a friendly shove.

"You have enough time to close down your work stations and take care of any unfinished business," continued Cam. "I need to go check on my new intern and make sure the maceration of the construction site bones is completed before we shut down."

Jack, Angela, and Zach smiled at each other before heading off to their respective office and work areas. Cam turned in time to see Brennan, followed by Booth, enter the lab.

"I'd forgotten that the lab will be closed for the rest of the day," Brennan was telling Booth, "I just need to go get a few things from my office and then we can go…"

Cam watched Brennan and Booth closely, noticing how their eyes met and held while she spoke to him. Cam also noticed the uncharacteristic flush in Brennan's cheeks, and the way Booth watched her as she headed off towards her office.

Turning and noticing Cam watching him, Booth started.

"Hey, Cam, looks like you and your squints got yourselves a reprieve from work today," Booth offered lamely, trying to smile and appear at ease.

Cam regarded him with a shrewd look. "You've got plans with Dr. Brennan? I heard her say something about the two of you going somewhere?"

Booth cleared his throat, hands in pockets, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. "Yeah, I want to take her to dinner tonight—you know, she's been through a lot in the last couple of days… I just don't want her to be alone…"

Even as she spoke, Cam knew it was futile. She had felt Booth slipping away for weeks now, little by little. "That's very kind of you, Seeley, always thinking of others," she began generously, "Maybe the three of us could grab a bite, and then afterwards you and I could…" she trailed off as she saw the expression on Booth's face cloud.

Taking a deep breath, Booth knew it was now or never. "Sorry, Cam, I don't think so…" He saw a pained expression cross her features fleetingly, only to be replaced by an accusing stare.

"You're infatuated with her, aren't you?" Cam demanded, the tremor in her voice betraying the depth of feeling she was trying to hide.

For a moment Booth couldn't answer, shocked as he was by her direct confrontation. Finally, in a quiet voice, he answered her, "I care a lot about you Cam, but you and I were a mistake—one that I shouldn't have made, for _both_ our sakes. You can hate me all you want, but please don't take it out on Brennan—she has nothing to do with you and me."

Cam knew that Booth was right; knowing also that it was she who had forced the relationship. He had had doubts all along, and had never hid them from her.

"I don't hate you Seeley," was all she could manage. And because she didn't want him to see her cry, Cam turned and strode away resolutely, wiping the tears that had begun to fall and cursing herself for putting her own heart in a position to be broken.

She was so intent on getting away from Booth that she failed to notice the young intern passing in the other direction, taking off her lab coat to leave the building.

Back where Cam had left him, Booth stood staring at the floor, feeling guilty, yet oddly relieved.

"Well, I guess there's nothing else I can do here, so I'm ready to go," Brennan announced, walking up to him with her briefcase in hand. "What's wrong?" she asked, sensing by his somber expression that something had happened in her absence.

Booth looked up at her, knowing that he needed to tell her. "I just broke off my relationship with Cam." He watched for her reaction closely, not sure what he expected to see there.

Brennan paused to consider his words. "Did it have anything to do with me?" she asked hesitantly.

"Indirectly… but yes…" Booth replied, staring at her. He was realizing at that moment just how much it did have to do with her, and it was a revelation to him.

Brennan went pale, but then a blush began to creep into her cheeks.

They both stood silent, staring at one another in confusion, neither knowing what to say next.

They would have continued in this manner indefinitely if they hadn't been startled by the blare of the alarm sounding throughout the lab.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Intern's Error**

Not realizing she had passed the very intern she was supposed to be checking up on, Camille Saroyan continued on her way to the small lab where the construction site bones were undergoing maceration in a xyol chemical bath. The pungent odor of the chemicals assaulted her senses as she entered the room, and Cam knew immediately that something was very wrong.

Covering her nose with her hand, Cam peered into the long glass vat where the bones had been processed. Although the bones had been removed, the chemical bath remained. To her horror, Cam noticed that the fume hood had been turned off, which accounted for the strong odor in the air. She hurriedly flipped on the switch, hoping it wasn't too late to suck the noxious gas into the discharge vent.

Within seconds, the biohazard alarm sounded above her, and Cam bolted out of the small room closing the doors behind her, her throat burning from the fumes she'd inhaled.

Running down the walkway above the laboratory, Cam encountered Hodgins and Angela, who had run out of Angela's office when they heard the alarms sounding. Below them, Zach was standing with Booth and Brennan. They were all staring anxiously at the sealed doors in front of them.

Taking charge, Cam called out to everyone present: "Okay everybody, just a little xyol from the maceration bath. It should be cleared out in a manner of minutes. I'll get on the phone with facility maintenance and let them know our situation." Turning, she strode purposefully towards her office to make the call.

"Not again…" began Booth, remembering last Christmas's fiasco in the lab. "How long _this_ time?" he asked, sinking down on the steps to the platform once more.

Brennan sat down next to him, unruffled. "This is a common occurrence Booth. It's happened several times in the past year, usually as a precaution and rarely resulting in any real risk to personnel."

"Yeah," added Hodgins, as he and Angela joined the group below. "It's just a royal pain in the ass, is all. I wonder who the _dumbass_ was who wasn't following protocol?"

Zach snorted, giving Hodgins an incredulous look.

"Zach, let's not go there…" Angela warned him, not wanting to rehash Jack's role in last year's breach of protocol that ended up stranding them all in the lab on Christmas Eve.

"I think everyone should just calm down," instructed Brennan, "Chances are the air in the lab will be cleaned in a matter of minutes, and once there's containment the alarms will shut off, the doors will open, and we can all be on our way."

As if on cue, the alarms suddenly fell silent. Everyone waited expectantly, watching the doors.

After several seconds and no change, Booth stood up slowly and pointed toward the doors. "Uh, why aren't they opening?"

"Because there's been a malfunction with the system," Cam answered him, returning from her office and wearily running her fingers through her hair.

"A malfunction?" exclaimed Brennan, standing.

"Yes, a malfunction," affirmed Cam. "They think it had something to do with the fact that the electricians began working on the central power source at the same time that the biohazard sensors went off initializing the contamination protocol. It was too much for the system to handle and it more or less short-circuited it."

"And that means?" asked Angela, bogged down by the technical ramifications.

"That means that the doors aren't going to open, are they?" finished Jack, stating the obvious for everyone.

"Not until they can get a qualified repair crew here, and even then it might take several hours," explained Cam, sighing. "This is a state-of-the-art system that requires more than your garden-variety electrician to fix."

"Great, that's just great," growled Booth, shaking his head. He looked over at Brennan who just smiled calmly at him.

"Relax, Booth," she said brightly. "Now I might even be able to get some work done…"

Booth responded with a smile of his own that looked more like a grimace.


	5. Chapter 5

**Around the Dinner Table**

"Welcome to 'The Lockdown Café,' I hope you'll be pleased with the menu," Angela joked, leading Booth into the staff dining room where the table was set with six sets of paper plates and plastic utensils. Arranged in the center of the table was an assortment of staff leftovers discovered in the fridge by the ever resourceful Angela.

"How do we even know that these are even still edible?" Booth said, peering into a pizza box ringed with congealed cheese. "It's bad enough that we're stuck here indefinitely—but it would be worse to leave here with a case of botulism."

"Oh, it should be safe. The janitor empties out the fridge every Friday afternoon," Angela reassured him. "What would you like to drink? We have water, instant coffee, or some very flat diet coke."

Booth was about to answer that he'd stick with the water, when Jack came bounding in with a huge grin on his face.

"Major score, people!" he beamed, raising two bottles of wine above his head.

"Jack… _honey_… where did you get those?" Angela asked suspiciously, taking a bottle of red from his hand and examining the label.

"Simpson's office," Jack announced proudly. "Remember his retirement party yesterday? I thought there was an off chance that he didn't take all his gifts home yet…"

Angela looked at him in disbelief. "You mean you went into Simpson's office and ransacked it looking for booze?"

"You better believe it, Baby," Jack said, looking happily at the bottle of chardonnay he was still holding. "It's basically two-buck chuck, but it'll have to do."

Booth had been watching their exchange with a mix of amusement and horror. "What is it with you people? 

Jack turned to him, unfazed. "Survival of the fittest, Man. Now if only I can find a corkscrew…" Jack mumbled to himself, turning to hunt through the kitchen drawers.

At that moment, Zach entered the dining room, looking with anticipation at the spread before him. "Is dinner ready yet?" he asked Angela hopefully, eyeing the pizza box.

Jack shot him a severe look. "What is she, your _mother_?" He was still looking for the elusive corkscrew.

"Don't mind him, Sweetie," Angela said to Zach, indicating that he should have a seat next to Booth. "Would like a slice of sausage pizza, bagels and cream cheese, left-over fried rice, the remnants of the veggie tray, or some stale donuts? Oh, and there is some fruit salad, but it looks so-so and I can't really vouch for it…"

"Fermented fruit can cause flatulence, so I guess I'll go with the pizza…" Zach trailed off, his shoulders sagging as he heard his options.

"Good call," Booth replied drily.

At this point Jack was now opening and shutting cupboards loudly, cursing under his breath.

Sighing heavily, Angela elbowed past him and reached into a drawer, pulling out a corkscrew and handing it to him. "I can definitely tell that this is not your domain, Hodgins," she smiled at him sweetly as he took the implement from her hands sheepishly.

"Okay, now we're just waiting for Brennan and Cam," she announced, satisfied with her efforts.

With his mouth full of cold pizza, Zach mumbled, "Dr. Brennan said she'd be here when she's finished with her examination of the bones that were just processed, and Dr. Saroyan said that she isn't coming."

Jack and Angela, always attentive when it came to other people's romantic business, looked immediately at Booth. He was unable to hide the strained look that crossed his features at the mention of Cam. They shot each other significant looks, much to Booth's chagrin.

"I'll bring her a bagel later," Booth tried to cover, but couldn't keep the annoyance out of his voice.


	6. Chapter 6

**View From the Catwalk**

Although dinner wasn't a culinary delight, it filled everyone's stomachs for the evening and no one got sick from the experience. Brennan had joined them late, and the looks that passed between her and Booth kept Angela and Hodgins busy speculating to themselves as to their meaning. They could hardly wait to be alone to share intelligence and float some theories.

Standing close together in the shadows on a corner of the catwalk, they spied on Booth and Brennan who sat in the circular lounge below drinking the pilfered wine. Sadly, Zach was sitting between them, nursing his flat soda.

"Damn! I wish we could get Zach out of there…" whispered Jack, pressing his lips close to Angela's ear. He took advantage of their concealment by running a hand down her back and squeezing her firm bottom, his thoughts drifting for a moment to what pleasurable activities the two of them could get up to during a lockdown at the lab. Plus, he wanted to talk to her some more about their vacation time, which she had told him to put off until _later_—tonight could qualify as _later_, couldn't it?

If Angela was having any reaction to Jack's caresses, she wasn't showing it. She whispered back to him, "That is just _so_ weird that Cam didn't come to dinner—and she's _still_ holed up in her office. And did you see the look on Booth's face when Zach mentioned her name? Not to mention the fact that both Booth and Brennan have been acting really strange all night. Did you see the way he was looking at her? And Brennan—I haven't seen her this flustered since… well, since… _never_."

"Hey, Zach's getting up," Jack began excitedly, and then his voice sank, "No, he's sitting down again. Brennan's getting up…"

"Brennan's leaving…" Angela continued the play-by-play, "She's walking down the stairs… she's heading to… her office." She turned to Jack and sighed, putting her head on his shoulder in dejection.

"Hey, all is not lost, Baby. Now's your chance to get Brennan alone and pump her for some information," Jack suggested, pulling her into a close embrace. "And when you're done with that mission, I've got another one for you that involves you, me, a private corner of the lab, and the bottle of Simpson's wine that I _didn't_ bring to dinner…" As if to give Angela a preview of things to come, Jack nudged her pelvis with his own, his movements coaxing a warm response from both of them.

Arms around his neck, Angela shifted her legs slightly to allow Jack more intimate contact as she considered his suggestion about visiting Brennan. Continuing to scheme, she added an idea of her own: "And while I'm interrogating Brennan, maybe you can go find those emergency blankets that are stored somewhere in the lab with the first aide kits. Hand them out and see if you can find out about everyone's sleeping arrangements…" For good measure, she reached down to stroke Jack's growing erection through the fabric of his jeans before adding, "…and then we can discuss _our_ sleeping arrangements."

"I like your ideas," Jack said with a sharp intake of breath, and proceeded to back her up to the wall. "You know, I could just slip your panties down right now and…" he began hopefully, beginning to grope under the hem of her skirt.

As tempting as _that_ idea was, Angela noticed Zach out of the corner of her eye climbing the stairs to their walkway.

"We're going to have company real soon—better stick to plan A. Also, you'd better pick another route," Angela whispered to him, indicating the opposite direction from which Zach was approaching. "Give things time to settle down," she grinned, indicating the obvious bulge that was straining against the front of his jeans.

"Good idea," Jack smiled back, mentally planning an alternate avenue of escape. Reluctantly letting her go, he gave her a quick kiss and said in parting, "Hey, I want you to think about where you'd like to go on vacation, so we can talk about it later." With that, he turned and set off on his quest to find the blankets without waiting for her response.

Angela sighed after him, feeling suddenly troubled. She turned in time to see Zach approach.

"Hey, what are you guys doing?" Zach asked innocently, "And where's Hodgins going in such a hurry?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Heart to Heart**

Brennan looked up from her computer when she heard light knocking at her doorway. It was Angela.

"Get tired of Hodgins already?" Brennan attempted to joke, smiling wanly at her friend. She closed down the program she was working on and snapped her laptop shut.

"No, not tired," Angela began, sitting down across from Brennan on her sofa. "He's hunting up some blankets for all of us, and then we'll probably go back to my office and have wild sex—after he harasses me again about going on vacation with him."

"Why would going on vacation be harassment? Going anywhere with Hodgins is bound to be first class all the way," Brennan asked, before beginning to consider the more practical implications of any future absences. "Just make sure that you both check with me before making any definite plans—we have the International Symposium on Human Identification coming up next month."

"I don't want to go anywhere with him at all—okay, that's not true—I _do_ want to go away with him. It's just that… well… you know what happens after vacationing together…" Angela trailed off, giving Brennan a distressed look.

"What happens?" Brennan asked, giving Angela a blank look.

Angela leaned back, exasperated, and stared up at the ceiling. "Brennan…" she began, frustrated that the other woman hadn't remembered, "The vacation together will ultimately be followed by the question of us moving in together—and I'm not ready. Jack's moving the time-line along just _way_ too fast."

Brennan considered Angela's plight with amusement and laughed. "It seems to me that you're already spending the majority of your time together, so I don't understand your dilemma. But then again, I've warned you about asking me about what to do in personal matters. Besides, the last time I gave you romantic advice, you didn't follow it anyway."

It was Angela's turn to laugh. "Thank God I didn't follow _that_ advice, or I'd still be dating losers and thinking of Hodgins merely as the co-worker with the goo-fetish who once asked me out."

"Okay, now that we've established that I'm a very bad source of personal advice, you can go off and have relationships with as many co-workers as you want," Brennan agreed, smiling broadly.

Changing the subject, Angela lowered her voice to a whisper, "I didn't actually come here to talk about _my_ love life. I want to know what's up with Cam and Booth."

The smile on Brennan's face faded.

"You _do_ know something—don't pretend you don't," warned Angela, leaning forward to lock eyes with Brennan. "C'mon, tell me _everything_—did they break up?"

"Yes, they broke up… today… in the lab… right after we got back from lunch..." Brennan said, falteringly.

"Wow…" was all Angela could manage for a moment. As she looked at Brennan, she realized that she wasn't getting the whole story. "Okay, what else? What else aren't you telling me?"

Brennan paused, not sure she wanted to give out any more details. Angela was sure to encourage her to do something that went against her better judgment. But Angela would not be denied.

"He asked you out, didn't he? I mean, you guys took a really long time getting back to the lab after he followed you out of the diner. Brennan, it's just _so_ obvious watching the two of you together…" Angela pleaded, waiting for Brennan to finally give in to her and confess.

A look of distress fell over Brennan's face as she suddenly blurted out, "I think it may be that love thing… I don't know, I have no frame of reference for this, Angela… he asked me out to dinner, he held my hand, and then he broke up with Cam… I have no idea what any of this means…" She shook her head, lowering it into her hands as if she could block out the confusing thoughts and feelings that were intruding into her tidy, rational schemata.

Angela dropped to her knees in front of the other woman, her heart aching for her. "Sweetie," she whispered, pulling Brennan's hands from her face so that she would have to look her in the eyes, "It means that he loves you. You can sense that, and it scares you. You've got to go to him and open yourself up to him—I think that's all he's waiting for."

"But… but what if you're wrong?" Brennan began, uncertain, "I don't think I know how to love…"

"That is _so_ not true," Angela scolded her, gripping her hands to make her point. "You've just forgotten. You had a mother and father who loved you, and who you loved in return—and yeah, your father might have left you again, but the love has been there your whole life. It's still inside of you, buried maybe, but it's there. Your father_ loves_ you, and because of that _you'll know_ how to love when the time comes."

Brennan began to protest, "You know, psychology _is_ a soft science, Angela…"

Sighing in defeat, Angela stood up. "You're making a mistake if you don't go to him tonight. You can't let fear get in the way of your happiness—okay, I know that sounds like a sappy affirmation, but it is _so_ true."

"You're afraid to go on a vacation with Hodgins," Brennan countered, challenging Angela's theory.

Angela's mouth dropped open and she was speechless for a moment. Finally, regaining her composure, she stated with some authority, "Remember, we're talking about you, Sweetie—you and Booth. Please take what I've said under advisement so you don't have to live with too many more regrets…"


	8. Chapter 8

**Sleeping Arrangements**

Jack Hodgins had finally found the closet containing the emergency supplies next to the staff restrooms on the main floor. Never knowing what kind of contingency the workers might face, the Emergency Management Team at the Jeffersonian had stocked this and other closets around the Institute with generous quantities of first aid kits, flashlights, bottled water, and government-issue blankets--all in the name of emergency preparedness.

Seeing nothing more useful than the blankets, Jack grabbed an armload of them and headed back toward the lab and the lower level offices to begin distribution.

On his way to Dr. Brennan's office, Jack looked up and noticed Booth still sitting in the lounge, alone, with an almost empty glass of wine.

"Hey Booth, you sleeping up there tonight?" Jack called up.

Booth leaned over the railing, a grim smile on his face. "I might as well—this is as good a place as any, right?"

Hodgins trudged up the steps to toss Booth one of the blankets. "Sleep tight, Man," was all he said, and headed back down.

Continuing on his way down the hallway, he arrived at Brennan's office.

Hesitating at the door, he looked in to see Brennan sitting on her sofa, staring fixedly into space. She had a look of intense concentration on her face, and Jack would have paid a cool grand to know what her thoughts were at that moment.

Sensing a presence in the room, Brennan looked up, startled. Seeing that it was only Jack, she relaxed a little.

"Hodgins, you scared the hell out of me standing there like that," she smiled, embarrassed at her own jumpiness.

"Sorry," Hodgins began, holding out a blanket, "Thought you might need this tonight."

"Thanks," Brennan answered, returning briefly in her mind to the time she spent with him buried underground. She had seen the real Jack Hodgins then, and his thoughtfulness now reminded her that she knew a side of him that so few others, except maybe Angela, were familiar with. "I suppose there're enough couches around the lab to keep everyone comfortable tonight, don't you think?"

"Oh, there're plenty of places a guy can go for some privacy," Hodgins began, speaking a little too quickly, "For example, Booth is sleeping alone up in the lounge."

Brennan narrowed her eyes at him. "And why are you telling me this?" she asked, wondering if Angela, who had just left her office minutes before, had anything to do with it.

"No reason," Jack answered, and quickly exited her office.

Continuing on his way, Hodgins ran into Zach, who had apparently been wandering the lab wondering where everyone had disappeared to.

"I can't seem to find anyone," began Zach, looking quite forlorn in his rumpled suit and the five o'clock peach fuzz shadow that was beginning to stubble his chin.

"Dude, that's because everyone is cashing it in for the night. I suggest you find an empty sofa and do the same," advised Jack, trying not to let on that he felt a degree of sympathy for his younger colleague. "Here, have yourself a blanket," Jack offered, throwing one at him.

"Did you give one to Dr. Saroyan?" Zach asked with concern.

"I haven't made it that far, but here," began Jack, handing him a second blanket, "you can take it to her. She _likes_ you."

Even as he said it, Hodgins couldn't help but be surprised at Zach's delighted response.

"You really think so?" Zach asked eagerly.

"Just take her the blanket and don't push your luck," Jack warned, rolling his eyes as he continued on past the wide-eyed Zach.

"You're going to go have sex with Angela now, aren't you?" he heard Zach call after him loudly.

"You called it, _Dr. Addy_--and I'd better not catch you listening outside her office tonight…" Jack yelled back, continuing on his way.

Relieved of all but the last few blankets, Jack was in high spirits as he approached Angela's office. The door was closed. He laughed out loud to himself as he peered down to read the handwritten sign hanging over the doorknob:

DO NOT DISTURB.

FORNICATION IN PROGRESS.

"All I can say is that I hope you haven't started without me…" Hodgins began, entering the dimly lit room. He paused in the doorway, taking a deep breath and smiling.

Angela's computer monitor displayed a screensaver of flickering candles that bathed the small room in ambient light, while something soft and instrumental played on low volume from the speakers. All of the cushions had been pulled off the sofa to create a luxurious pallet, and reclining in the midst of them was a very naked Angela, sipping wine she'd poured from Jack's reserve bottle.

"Hey, Baby," she called seductively, "Now I know what was missing from this party."

Jack allowed himself time to appreciate the scene before him, marveling at his luck. "I'd have been here sooner if I'd known what _I_ was missing," he said, dropping the blankets next to her.

Angela answered by coyly reaching out a slim foot to nudge him into action, and a nudge was all it took.


	9. Chapter 9

**Dr. Addy Makes His Move**

Inside the men's restroom, Zach had shed his suit and now stood in boxers and tee-shirt in front of the mirror, examining his new, improved self. After a few seconds of forced dignity, his shoulders once more drooped. Maybe with time and practice he could be like Hodgins and be having sex all of the time—even during lockdowns. The problem was, he had all the time in the world. What he didn't have was the practice.

Wrapping his blanket around his shoulders, Zach left the restroom and made his way down the darkened hall to the offices. He still had the extra blanket that he was to deliver to Dr. Saroyan. He approached her door and paused, unsure what to say to her about the blanket.

"Zach?" a voice called to him. Dr. Saroyan's door was open just a crack, and he could see her sitting in front of her computer, leaning over to peer at him through the opening.

Zach approached hesitantly, conscious that he was wearing nothing but a blanket and his underwear. He pulled his own blanket more snugly around his neck and peeked in. "I... I have a blanket for you."

"C'mon in," Cam beckoned, indicating that he should have a seat on her sofa. "I thought everyone had turned in for the evening?"

Zach may not have been a ladies' man, but from time to time he could decipher the moods of a woman, having been raised in a family where sisters were plentiful. At this moment, Cam appeared weary and not a little fragile.

"Are you okay, Dr. Saroyan?" he asked solicitously, sitting down where she had motioned and handing her the blanket.

Cam looked at the young man for a second, touched by the sincerity in his voice. "It's been a hell of a day, Zach," she confided in him, smiling despite her pain. "You ever have days like that, where you wished you'd just overslept and missed coming in to work?"

"Sometimes," Zach admitted, "But when I do oversleep, Hodgins always ends up pounding on my door while shouting expletives at me. I find that it's preferable to get up promptly rather than suffer his abuse."

"Well, you can oversleep tomorrow, I promise," Cam said, treating him to one of her wide, dimpled smiles. Zach smiled back, entranced.

Dr. Saroyan stood up, walking over to a closed cabinet against the wall. She opened it and pulled out a flask and two shot glasses. "You know, what happened here today was my fault, really—you like whiskey, don't you Dr. Addy?" Without waiting for an answer, she poured the amber liquid into both glasses.

It wasn't that Zach didn't like whiskey--it was that he had never tried anything more bracing than a cold beer. However, she had called him _Dr. Addy_. Dr. Addy, unlike Zach the grad student, would be someone who would drink whiskey with his colleagues.

Trying his best to sound sophisticated, Zach nodded and answered, "You betcha."

"Good," she lavished him once more with one of her dazzling smiles, handing him his glass. "Here's to being human," she toasted, lifting her glass and tossing back the shot.

Zach knew that if he tried to imitate Saroyan, he would end up spewing the whiskey all over himself _and_ his hostess. Instead, he opted for a more cautious approach, and sipped at it gingerly. It burned all the way down, but settled in his stomach with a heavy warmth that was not at all unpleasant.

"I was supposed to be monitoring Julie during the maceration process. She's only been here three weeks and she wasn't qualified to work at this station without supervision," Cam went on to explain. "If I had been there when she finished processing the bones… well, then none of this would have happened."

Zach had the feeling that Cam was speaking of more than the malfunction in the security system. He also knew that it was his turn to say something.

"Dr. Duffey should have followed protocol. She may be an intern, but who leaves a xyol bath unattended and the fume hood turned off? Sloppy procedure, that's what I say," Zach stated with as much authority as he could muster. After three swallows, the whiskey was making him bolder. "And it's not like she's some callow youth with immature judgment," he went on, warming to his subject, "I've been told that she's almost _thirty_."

"I would say her judgment was right on," quipped Saroyan, pouring herself another shot. "She did after all leave as soon as she heard that the lab would be closing—although how she slipped by unnoticed is beyond me… Cute girl, though, don't you think, Zach?"

Zach thought briefly about Julie Duffey. She was slim, blond, and had curves in all the right places. "Oh, I suppose she has _some_ physical charms," Zach admitted cavalierly. "I wouldn't kick her out of bed." The whiskey was now causing a pleasant numbness in his toes and fingertips.

"Well, that's a good thing Zach, because she told me last week that she thinks you're cute," Cam grinned, watching Zach's expression closely.

"What?" Zach started, his mouth gaping open in surprise.

"Don't act so surprised, Zach. You _are_ pretty cute, you know," Cam continued, looking at him fondly.

Dr. Saroyan's warm appraisal of him made Zach blush; the heat rising through to the roots of his newly shorn hair. His embarrassment did not go unnoticed.

"Why Zach, don't you know how attractive you are? I hear lots of the girls around the lab talking about you. Don't you date?" Cam asked gently.

Zach took a deep breath as he looked into those limpid brown eyes. "I have had questionable success in dating," he admitted, and then continued in a rush, "I don't know what I'm doing in the bedroom and no one will help me or give me meaningful advice, although Angela did tell me to just ask the woman what she wants me to do, but that didn't work because I need specific, explicit instructions, or a demonstration, or a tutorial of some kind…"

Cam looked at him with compassion and took his hand, sitting down close to him. "What you need Zach is an older, more experienced woman."

At that moment Zach felt his heart lurch up into his throat and his penis begin to stiffen at an alarming rate. With gratitude, he reached out a tentative hand and placed it on Cam's thigh.

Cam's eyes registered alarm, and she quickly lifted his hand from her leg. "Oh, Zach, that's not exactly what I meant…" she began, distressed at the misunderstanding.

Zach wasn't going to let go that easily. "But _you're_ an older, more experienced woman," he began, wheedling. "I just want someone to teach me the basics. Hodgins is always talking about 'eating pussy,' and that seems to be key to being a successful lover. Just let me do that to you… you can critique me—I need feedback." He looked at her hopefully.

As Zach leaned forward towards her, the heavy blanket that was providing coverage for his burgeoning erection slipped sideways. Cam saw his white boxers tented proudly for her, and she experienced a moment of hesitation.

Briefly, Cam pictured herself splayed on the couch, naked from the waist down, Zach's eager face hovering between her thighs. She could guide him centimeter by centimeter to all her most sensitive places, give explicit directions regarding applied pressure and technique, and no doubt he would bring her to an amazing climax. And then, the generous older woman that she was, she would give him a blow job that he would never forget. Of course, it would have to end there. Because she was his superior they couldn't actually have _intercourse_, or ever indulge again in oral sex. This would have to be a one-time event; her one moment of weakness at the end of a disastrous day.

But Cam's moment of weakness passed, and she knew then that she would be sending Zach away sexually frustrated—but for his own good. Taking on a motherly tone, she pulled his blanket around him again and admonished him, "I'm your boss, Zach. I'm not right for you. Anyways, you probably know that Booth and I were in a relationship, but he broke it off today. You don't really want someone who's on the rebound, now do you? You deserve someone without all that baggage—like Julie. That is, if I don't fire her first."

Zach looked at her in amazement, coming down from the whiskey long enough to say to her, "Booth must be crazy, Dr. Saroyan. You are the most beautiful, remarkable…"

"Stop, Zach," Cam said, smiling and pulling him up from the couch, "That's the whiskey talking…"

Cam watched wistfully as Zach shuffled out of her office. She'd had the chance to numb the pain for a little while, at any rate, but had turned it down. At least she could face herself in the morning with some measure of pride intact.

Zach, still tipsy from the alcohol, collapsed on a couch near the vending machine and the restrooms. Spitting into his hand, he reached into his shorts and accomplished the task of defusing his ardor. He did it while alternately fantasizing about Dr. Saroyan and the incompetent, yet sexy, Dr. Duffey.


	10. Chapter 10

**Alone in the Lounge**

10:45 and he couldn't sleep.

It didn't help Booth that this was way before his usual bedtime, and his only choice of bed was a very short couch or the floor. He had stripped down to his skivvies and was reclining with his feet crossed and legs propped up and extending beyond the end of the small sofa. He had shifted five or six times to get comfortable, but nothing was working.

"Damn!" he said out loud, staring up at the high, glass ceiling. The night sky above was sprinkled with stars washed out from the city lights, but still visible. "Just like camping…" he grumbled to himself. The thought occurred to him that it was almost romantic, sleeping under the stars. Or at least it would be, if he weren't sleeping alone.

His train of thought unraveled back through the day's events. If Cam hadn't made him feel like his back was up against the wall, he might be sleeping with her tonight. But no, that was not entirely correct. His conversation with Cam exposed the fissure in their relationship, and he had taken advantage of the opportunity and made a clean break from her. Well, maybe not _clean_. Ending a relationship is never without a degree of messiness. Hell, he hadn't even had to really face her since then. There would be plenty of awkward moments to come in the future, he could be sure of that.

Awkward... Now, that described how he felt around Brennan all evening. Brennan was a whole _other_ issue. What had really happened between them during the car ride home? Was that electric-something that had passed between them just a figment of his imagination? No, it had definitely happened, and it wasn't the first time. Today, however, the attraction he felt for her seemed to have increased exponentially starting with their conversation before lunch in front of the diner. He would have kissed her—no matter how he denied it to himself, it would have happened—except for _Dr. Addy_ and his untimely arrival. Did he still want to kiss her? Booth gave himself free rein to explore _that_ idea as he stared up into the dark recesses of the night sky. He was, after all, unattached now…

**Stepping Aside**

While Booth lay quietly on his back and pondered his feelings, the object of his thoughts was also meditating on a similar subject. Brennan had returned to her computer and was trying unsuccessfully to occupy her mind by reading professional articles. Visions of Booth's face continued to surface in her consciousness, displacing the text in front of her eyes. Finally, surrendering to her distraction, Brennan sat back and sighed.

"Long day?" a voice sounded behind her, startling her for the second time that evening. Brennan was even more startled to see that it was Cam, standing in her doorway and looking a little unsure.

"Dr. Saroyan, come in," Brennan offered, falling back on her professionalism. Cam entered and took a seat. "Any word on when they'll be getting the doors open?"

Cam relaxed noticeably as the conversation came around to business. "They're overnighting the replacements for the damaged components, and the head engineer is flying in first thing in the morning. It looks like we're here for the duration—at least until noon tomorrow—if all goes well."

Brennan nodded. It was as much as she expected. "Have you told the others?"

Cam smiled ruefully. "No, but I don't think it will make a difference. Everyone is pretty much resigned to sleeping in the lab tonight. And I'm pretty sure a few of us are making the most of it."

Brennan smiled, "You mean Angela and Hodgins?"

"_Oh_, yeah," Cam smiled back. "I kind of envy them, don't you? Young love and all that…"

Brennan looked down, not sure how to respond to the question.

Cam continued, a forced casualness in her voice, "I rather thought you'd be sleeping with Booth tonight…"

Brennan lifted her head in surprise. "Sleeping with Booth? We don't have that kind of relationship, Cam."

"Oh, don't you?" Cam confronted her, but not unkindly. "He as much as admitted that he's in love with you."

"Did… did he say that?" Brennan asked, turning pale.

"He didn't need to—it was written all over his face. A woman can sense these things, Dr. Brennan. I'm surprised that you're the last to know." Cam gave her a look of sincere pity, wondering that someone as brilliant as Brennan could be so dense.

"Angela keeps saying the same thing… what should I do?" Brennan asked, bewildered.

Brennan's utter lack of cattiness or guile completely disarmed Dr. Saroyan, and she found that her feelings toward her verged on tenderness. She would never have imagined saying what she said next to Brennan.

"I think you should go to him tonight and tell him how you feel—let him tell you how _he_ feels. I think you'll find his answer far less disappointing than I did," Cam advised with deepest sincerity, knowing that sometimes surrender is the best part of valor.

While Brennan regarded her speechlessly, Cam stood up to leave. As she walked by she put a hand on her rival's shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze. "The field is yours, Dr. Brennan. No hard feelings…"


	11. Chapter 11

_**Thanks for all the reviews and encouragement so far! But be patient... the B/B scene will happen, but all in good time...****  
**_

_**Later**_

While the rest of the inhabitants of the lab talked about or ruminated on love, Jack and Angela were busy making it.

It had been an hour since Hodgins first walked into Angela's office, saw her in her best seductress pose, and immediately fell to his knees in front of her. With all the time in the world they had spent a good portion of it just necking like teenagers, mouths moving together sweetly at first, and then growing in passion. Soon they were twined together; their hands and mouths moving over each other's bodies, caressing until their pulses throbbed as one. Angela had curved her body around his and had his penis in her mouth, her tongue massaging all around the base of its head, her hand stroking firmly up and down his shaft. Once he heard himself groaning, Jack knew it was time to turn the tables.

Reluctantly disengaging from her, Jack pushed Angela over on her back and parted her legs.

For the next thirty minutes, his head cradled between her thighs, Jack was intent on showing her just how much she was appreciated. Angela, as the recipient of his attentions, lay completely open and relaxed under his ministrations. She was floating away on waves of pleasure that rippled softly outward--not quite cresting--and then banked, only to build again for the cycle to repeat. Besides the obvious fact that Jack was amazingly good at oral sex, she realized happily that it was an effective way to keep his mouth too busy to bring up the topic that he had threatened to speak of _later_.

"Mmmmm, that's _so_ good, Baby," she praised him, as another fluttering pre-climax was coaxed out of her by Jack's light tongue strokes. He was holding back, prolonging the intense gratification that he would give her later. Jack moved down to kiss the inside of her thighs for awhile, giving her tension time to rebuild.

What Angela didn't realize is that Jack had been thinking on _that_ topic the whole time he had been pleasuring her. Now with his mouth free, he voiced the last thought that had come into his head:

"Imagine lying on a private beach in the Bahamas with me doing this to you…" he murmured, rubbing his bearded check against her satiny skin.

And for a moment, caught off guard, Angela did just that. She sighed pleasantly, almost feeling the warm, soft breezes that would compliment the sensation of Jack going down on her while they lay on a white sand beach, no one hearing her amorous cries except the sea birds who would be bobbing on the surf just beyond their lovemaking.

"… or in a chateau in Switzerland during ski season…" Jack had continued, rousing Angela from her island fantasy too soon.

This was enough to jolt her out of her reverie, and Angela quickly realized the trap he had set for her. Sitting up, she looked down at Jack sternly, saying, "You thought I would just roll over and surrender, didn't you? Bringing it up during great sex is underhanded, Hodgins."

Jack looked up at her in complete surprise. "_Surrender_? Is that what you think I want you to do?" His look of surprise was rapidly turning into one of hurt anger. "I just want to be with you, Angela. Can you tell me what's so wrong with that?"

Angela immediately regretted her words. She knew she loved Jack, but something fearful always seemed to be lurking on the horizon in their relationship—as it had in every relationship she'd had. With Hodgins, she'd already gone way beyond the point on her heart's map that declared "Here Be Dragons," and she couldn't help but peer anxiously into the future waiting for one to show up. Jack's passion for her was like a huge, billowing wind that kept pulling her further and further into uncharted territory, refusing to subside. What she wanted right now was to merely float on the tides of their sexual passion, avoiding all real or imagined monsters.

"Angela, talk to me," Jack insisted, sitting up to face her eye to eye. "You're warm, open, passionate about life, and not afraid to feel. What I'm asking of you is not unrealistic--we've been together _months_ now. This is the kind of response I'd expect from Brennan, or Zach, but not _you_."

Angela looked away uncomfortably, wishing for a moment that he would just go away. Rolling over on her stomach, she buried her face in her arms and told him in a stricken voice, "Brennan and I have more in common than you think, Jack."


	12. Chapter 12

**Brennan's Leap of Faith**

Booth drifted in and out of a restless sleep, still unable to find a comfortable position or to quell the voices and images that haunted him from the day's catalogue of events. As his eyelids fluttered in wakefulness, he suddenly became aware that someone was standing a few feet from the couch, watching him. FBI instinct made him sit up abruptly and reach for the gun that was in its holster on the table next to him.

"Are you going to shoot me, Booth," a familiar voice said with amusement.

Brennan stood in the dim light before him, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

Booth sank back on the couch, relieved, yet irritated. "Bones, you just can't come sneaking up on a guy like that…"

"At least not one that's armed," she smiled. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

Finally over his initial shock at having company, Booth looked at her curiously. "What are you doing here, Bones, couldn't sleep?" He couldn't help but notice her bare shoulders beneath the blanket, and wondered what she was wearing under it. The thought produced a pleasant tightening in his belly, so he tried instead to focus on her face.

Brennan drew in her breath, like a diver getting ready to plunge into the deep end of the pool. Her response, when it came, sounded emotionally ambivalent. "I don't really know. They all told me I should come up here and talk to you, to tell you…"

"Who? Who told you to come up here?" Booth leaned forward, trying to make sense of what she was saying.

"Angela and Cam. They told me to tell you…" Brennan began again, patiently.

"Cam? _Cam_ sent you up here?" Booth was incredulous.

Tired of being interrupted, Brennan wanted to forget the whole thing and run back down the stairs. She faltered for a moment, turning slightly as if she might.

Sensing that she might bolt, Booth stood up and closed the distance between them, taking her by the arm and guiding her to the sofa next to him.

"Okay, Bones, you came up here for a reason. Angela and Cam sent you. Is there something going on I should know about? Did someone get food poisoning from that shitty dinner Angela served us? Did we get word that the doors are going to open ahead of schedule?" Booth guessed at all the mundane reasons she might have for coming to him like this.

She sat staring at him for several seconds, and then answered just as cryptically as before. "I've been told that I need to talk to you about feelings." She looked down, embarrassed, shaking her head. "Sorry, I'm just not very good at this…"

Still not sure of her meaning, Booth pleaded with her, "C'mon, Bones, I need more to work with here… what feelings?" As soon as he said it, Booth knew he'd made a mistake. Brennan looked up at him with a stricken look on her face and immediately started to get up to leave.

Suddenly, it was all crystal clear to him. He reached up and pulled her back down on the couch next to him, closer this time. "I think I know what you're trying to say now," he began softly, searching her eyes. _Yeah, he could see it there in those deep-set eyes of hers, that same softness that he had found so appealing earlier in the day…_

Taking her by both arms and forcing her to look at him, Booth began his gentle interrogation, "What _do_ you feel, Temperance?"

She looked terribly uneasy, opening her mouth to answer and then closing it again. Finally, she decided to defer to Booth's superior knowledge on the subject. "I think you should tell me first what _you_ feel, because I've had very little practical experience with this kind of thing."

She was so sincere, yet it was all so absurd. Booth wanted to laugh, but swallowed it and tried to look serious. "Alright, I think I can do that."

Brennan was looking at him expectantly, her expression open and trusting. _What you see is what you get…_ he thought to himself, smiling, his eyes never once leaving hers.

"I believe that I'm in love you," he answered simply, a great weight leaving his chest once the words were said. And then, remembering that she was a scientist who believed only in irrefutable truths, he added with complete gravity, "I _am_ in love with you."


	13. Chapter 13

**Daddy's Legacy**

"Okay Angela, you need to talk to me," Jack insisted, lying down next to her. "I'm pretty sure you're not just playing hard-to-get…" he added ruefully, running his fingers through the silky strands of her hair.

"God, no," Angela exclaimed, rolling over on her side to face him. "It's nothing like that, Jack. It's just that…" she sighed heavily, "Just like Brennan, I have _daddy_ issues—at least that's what I've been told in every therapy session I've had since I was twelve."

Jack looked at her thoughtfully. She had told him about her father, who Jack had seen briefly last Christmas during the lab lockdown. The man's fame preceded him, and Jack was more than a little impressed. After all, how cool was it to have a famous rock star for a father? Apparently for Angela, it wasn't all that cool. All she'd ever wanted was the father out of that equation, and all she got were once-a-year visits.

"You know," Angela continued, "he never married my mother—or any of the women he'd had relationships with. He was a self-described 'free spirit' back then in the seventies. I guess he still is. I probably have siblings I don't even know about."

Jack remained silent, letting her talk, relieved that she was finally opening up to him.

"I Googled him awhile back, and all of the online bios state that he has no children. It's like I don't even exist…" Angela said with a tremor in her voice.

"Hey," Jack said softly, tousling her hair, "You exist big-time for me."

Angela smiled sadly, reaching up to take his hand and press it to her lips.

"When I was really little, he'd come and stay with us for weeks at a time, and then go off on tour again. My mom made such a big deal about it. She kept saying that one day, he'd come stay with us forever. She never stopped believing that. Finally, he moved on to another relationship and I didn't see him for five years. I think he felt bad about that, because that's when our visits on Christmas started. And so, whenever I'm in a relationship where I care a lot about the other person, part of me is afraid…" she hesitated, looking into his eyes reluctantly.

"…part of you is afraid that the other person will abandon you, so you push him away before he can," Jack finished for her, his worst suspicions confirmed.

"Exactly, so I don't know if I can ever give you what you want, Jack," Angela breathed out, waiting to see what his reaction would be. Even now, part of her wondered if he'd just get up and leave. The handful of other men she'd told this story to had done just that. She'd learned, over time, to keep her relationships brief and her mouth shut. But Hodgins had been so damned persistent…

Jack rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling, his brow knitted in thought.

Angela watched him anxiously, bracing herself for the worst. _It was better that they broke up now, rather than later_, she told herself with resignation. She decided it was best to turn over on her stomach once more and to hide her face in her folded arms.

"You know," Jack finally spoke, still looking up at the ceiling, "I once spent three months out in the woods hunched over rotting animal carcasses monitoring and recording the life-cycle and behavior of _nicrophorus marginatus_, otherwise known as the carrion beetle."

Angela lifted her head with hesitation, and asked blankly, "You've lost me, Jack. What does that mean?"

Jack answered by rolling over close to her and laying his cheek between her shoulder blades. "It means, Baby, that I am a _very_ patient man."


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay, time for Jack and Angela to get down and dirty... Don't worry B/B fans, because that means that they're next!****  
**

**Surrender**

For several seconds Angela wasn't sure she'd understood Jack correctly. And the kisses he began to lay between her shoulder blades certainly meant that he had not gone away and was still here. But why?

"Why are you still here, Jack," Angela asked, her voice muffled in her arms.

"Because I love you, Angela," Jack answered simply, "and I don't scare that easily."

It was her turn to be scared, _really_ scared, but in a good way. She had presented him with an impossible challenge and he had embraced it--and her--wholeheartedly. He wasn't going to give up on her, and even more importantly, wasn't going to let _her_ give up on love. She realized then that fate had brought her together with possibly the one man in the whole world who could stand with her to face her childhood demons.

"I love you too, and I'm _really_ glad you don't scare easily…" she said softly, closing her eyes and allowing the feeling of being loved to envelop her with its warmth.

Jack accepted her surrender silently, his lips touching each vertebrae softly, his palms smoothing down the length of her ribcage, and then back up again and over her shoulders. Warmth from his kisses began to seep down into her belly and thighs, and she parted her legs slightly, feeling that instinctual need of a woman for a man. Her movements did not go unnoticed, and Jack responded by moving his attentions lower.

Hands now sliding lovingly along the back of her thighs, Jack was kissing the tender space at the small of her back. Angela sighed deeply, lifting her buttocks to signal her need.

Jack's hands moved immediately to her fine, round cheeks to caress and squeeze them. His tongue dipped down into her soft furrow and stroked the sensitive skin there, and she arched up to him in encouragement, aching for more intimate contact. Jack obliged by slipping two fingers into the valley between her thighs and stroking. Angela moaned, lifting herself up on her knees to give him better access. Gently, Jack's fingers worked her slippery wetness all around, giving generous attention to her clit, causing a pleasurable agitation to build.

"Please fuck me, Jack," she begged between moans, spreading her legs wider in invitation.

Jack placed one more kiss on her back. "I love you so much, Baby," he murmured over her shoulder. He moved his hips in closer, his erection now bobbing warmly between her thighs. He grasped a hip with one hand, while the other worked the head of his penis into position at the entrance to her vagina. Angela pushed back against him eagerly, enjoying the almost painful sensation as he began to insinuate himself into her at this unnatural angle. With both hands now grasping her hips, Jack was soon buried up to the hilt. He paused to give her time to get accustomed to the feel of him, and then, slowly, began to thrust.

Soon Jack was draped over Angela's backside, holding on carefully as he thrust into her, trying not to slide out on the backstroke. The internal resistance created a delicious friction for both of them. There was inherent drag in this position, and every stroke resulted in a pulling sensation on the head of Jack's cock. Jack knew he wouldn't last long.

Working hard to hold herself up, Angela strained to let him in deeper, enjoying the feel of his warm balls slapping against her with every stroke. It felt good now, but it wasn't enough. "Jack," she gasped, "I need…"

Before she even finished her plea for assistance, Jack had snaked an arm around her belly, fingers moving down to find her hot button. Covering his hand with her own, Angela put it in position over her clitoris, and then returned to holding herself up. As Jack's fingers began their massage, Angela began to jerk violently against his hand, her orgasm building rapidly. Jack's thrusts grew harder and more insistent, working in counter-rhythm to the increasing pressure he was applying on her clit.

Angela's moans started to come as short, guttural bleating sounds that she had absolutely no control over. Shuddering waves of pleasure were overtaking her, making her strain back against him so he could milk her orgasm as long as possible. She went limp as he finished her off, the tremors subsiding. With effort Jack pulled her hips back up to his and began thrusting sharply into her maybe a dozen or so times, until he came with a long, drawn-out groan of relief. This was lovemaking as primitive as it came—the way Homo sapiens did it long before they evolved into the missionary position.

Lying together now in an embrace, Jack held Angela and kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes.

"I promise we'll take it slow, because I have no intention of losing you, Angela," Jack said with conviction and love in his voice.

Angela smiled at him, thankful that he was the kind of guy who was patient, but who wouldn't take no for an answer.

He was just the kind of guy that she'd needed all along.


	15. Chapter 15

**What Does Love Look Like?**

"I _am_ in love with you."

Booth's words hung in the space between them, bringing to Brennan's mind all the connotations and variations of the word _love_. She sifted them categorically; rearranging and reordering until she found the definition that seemed most plausible under the circumstances.

"So, what you're telling me is that you're experiencing a biochemical reaction that is essentially designed to propagate the species, correct?" Brennan asked, feeling that clarification was essential right now.

Booth just stared at her, his look of tenderness fading.

"Okay, no," Brennan backtracked hastily. "Perhaps instead you meant love as in runaway sexual selection driven by a positive-feedback mechanism?" She looked at him hopefully.

"Is that what _you_ feel, Bones? Because that sure as hell isn't what I'm talking about," Booth responded darkly, his grip on her arms tightening painfully.

Brennan shrank back, a little afraid, not sure what she had done wrong. If she felt anything right now, it was like a scolded puppy. "Booth, _please_…" she began, "I've never been any good at this—and I can't even explain to myself what I'm doing here…"

Booth's anger subsided as he saw the honest appeal in her eyes. For a moment he thought, _this is impossible.._.

"You've got to _work_ with me on this, Temperance," Booth said finally, pleadingly, and relaxed his hold on her.

"I'm trying, Booth. Really, I'm trying…" Brennan promised, searching his eyes. "Maybe you could just tell me how _I_ feel, how about that?"

"You can't be serious…" Booth replied, snorting in disbelief.

"Of course I'm serious. I'm thinking that if you ran down a checklist of descriptors that exemplify the state of feeling that qualifies as 'love,' then I can determine where _my_ feelings fall on that continuum. It seems a perfectly logical way for you to explain _your_ concept of love to me, and to find out if _my_ feelings are compatible with yours," Brennan proposed, the excitement in her voice evident.

Booth didn't say anything right away, but he was thinking plenty. Brennan was certainly the most aggravatingly complicated woman he had ever known. All of his strategies to date had been on how _not_ to talk about love to a woman. In fact, he had worked hard to avoid the subject. Now, he had not only put his heart out on the table, but he was required to make a checklist of 'descriptors' so she could figure out whether or not she was in love too. This was _insane_.

Booth was about to tell her that maybe they should both just reconsider the whole thing and call it a night, but she was leaning towards him ever so slightly, her lips parted, and her blanket had fallen past her shoulders in the most alluring way. Her breasts appeared to be soft and loose beneath a black, silk camisole, her nipples peaked and visible behind the revealing network of lace at the bodice. Booth felt an immediate corresponding surge in his loins, and rethought reconsidering. So, sexual arousal wasn't love per se, but it generally came as part of the package.

_Oh, to hell with it…_ Booth thought to himself, his original resistance to her idea weakening. He might as well give it a try and see where it got them. _Hey, it was a start_.

"Okay, we'll play it your way. You ready?" Booth began, clearing his throat nervously. Brennan nodded, looking at him expectantly. "Okay, number one: sexual attraction." Booth tried to sound as clinically detached as Brennan would have, given the same task.

However, she didn't respond quite as he had hoped. "_Sexual attraction_? That's basically what I asked you before and you about bit my head off!"

Recovering fast from his blunder, Booth responded a little too quickly, "That's because you didn't put it in the context of _the list_, Bones, like I'm going to do right now."

Still suspicious Brennan asked, "Why is it _first_ on your list?"

"_My_ list?" Booth objected in false indignation. "_My_ list? It's not _my_ list, it's _the _list. It goes first because… because sex the most basic--what'd you call it?--Oh yeah, _descriptor_. It's the most basic descriptor. This is a list from the most basic to the most… non-basic…" he was babbling now and he knew it. Thankfully, she either couldn't figure that out or she didn't care.

"Yes." Brennan stated emphatically.

"Yes what?" Booth asked, completely forgetting his train of thought.

Brennan smiled at him easily. "Yes, I am sexually attracted to you."

At that moment, Booth was very glad that he still had his blanket draped over his lap and over the growing erection that was lengthening across his thigh beneath his snug fitting boxer briefs. Now he was at least on familiar turf, and they had a common language he could exploit.

Sidling over closer to her, he put one arm behind her shoulders over the back of the sofa.

"Number two," he continued in a voice that was an octave lower. "Someone who makes you laugh."

Brennan rewarded him with a wide smile. "Most definitely," she answered, leaning back against his arm. "Although sometimes I get the vague feeling that you're laughing _at _me—not _with_ me."

Booth took advantage by letting his hand drop to her shoulder, fingers threading lightly through her hair. "Never!" he teased playfully.

Brennan made a face at him, and then prompted him for the next descriptor.

"Number three: Unconditional acceptance." Even though he was making these up on the fly, Booth was sincere about every one of them.

Here Brennan's face turned serious. "Yeah, I like that one. It's kind of like when you do your hug thing—it does make me feel very accepted."

"Like this?" Booth asked softly, his face intense. He pulled Brennan into his arms, until his chin rested against her forehead.

Instinctively her hands came up to his chest, landing on hard muscle. Unable to resist, she smoothed her palms over his firm contours, feeling the heat emanating up through his thin undershirt. With a voice turned husky, Brennan encouraged him to continue.

"What's number four?"

_Number four… number four… _Booth's mind was reeling from her touch and he was losing the capacity for speech. He knew he'd better make the next one a good one.

"Trust—number four is trust," he finally managed, his lips now caressing her brow. "Do you trust me, Temperance?"

Brennan's raised face was his affirmation. "Completely," she answered, her breath so close now that it mingled with his own.

And then, like polar opposites that have finally strayed too far into one another's magnetic fields, their mouths unavoidably collided; each drawing the other hungrily into its possession.

Brennan immediately drew her arms up around Booth's neck, opening her mouth beneath his, her tongue coaxing his into action. Emboldened by her forwardness, Booth dragged her into his lap, causing her to lose her blanket in the process. Below the camisole she was wearing only a pair of matching black lace panties. He couldn't help but drop a hand to a slim thigh and revel in its firm smoothness.

"This is good…this is really good…" Booth rasped between kisses, his hands beginning to stroke every area of her exposed skin; her neck, her arms, her legs…

Brennan found that she had to agree. Kissing him like this had released months of tension that she hadn't even been aware she'd been carrying until this very moment. But there was still more that she needed to know first.

Moving out of his embrace momentarily, she straddled his lap and took his face between her hands. It took him a few seconds to realize that she wasn't going to let him continue kissing her, and when he finally stopped trying he gave her the look of a petulant child. "What's wrong?" he asked, afraid she had changed her mind.

"What's number five?" Brennan asked with determination. "I need at least one more to feel confident about… about us."

_Here we go again…_ "Five? Why five? Is that some kind of crazy magic science number?" Booth was now unequivocally harder than he had ever been in his whole life, and she wanted him to come up with number five? However he was fast learning that it did no good to argue with Brennan-logic, so he sputtered the first thing that came into his head.

"Number five is seeing the truth in each other without being afraid."


	16. Chapter 16

**The Truth Be Told**

Brennan considered Booth's words carefully before asking hesitantly, "What… what truth do you see in me?" His face, rough with stubble, was still cupped in her hands.

Booth's eyes locked and held her gaze. When he answered, his voice was tinged with a little sadness. "Right now I see someone whose heart was broken a long time ago, who climbed into an ivory tower and locked herself in. The tower keeps her heart safe from being broken again, but it also keeps it safe from being healed. That tower, Temperance, keeps you from feeling your own life."

Brennan looked at him incredulously. "And that doesn't make you afraid to be with me?" she finally asked, eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, I'm scaling the walls right now with a jackhammer slung over one shoulder and a pickax for backup—does that sound like a man who's afraid?" Booth was grinning now, trying to give her a reason to smile back at him.

Brennan bowed her head a little, and the smile came. When she lifted her eyes to meet his again, she'd found fresh courage. "Do you know what truth I see in you, Booth?"

"I'd dying to know—as long as it doesn't make me sound like one of your specimens under the microscope," he cracked, his hands sliding to her hips, bringing her in a little closer. She was settled comfortably on his lap now, warm and familiar.

"I see a man so full of passion, and feeling, and life… but someone who constantly beats himself up because he thinks he's failed, when in reality he's… he's…" Brennan faltered as her emotions threatened to topple the careful construct of her world.

Booth waited, fascinated by her insight into his character, wondering what she would say next.

"…he's wonderful… and brave… and I love him." Brennan finished, sinking into him and hiding her face against his shoulder, exhausted from the effort it took to access these new feelings.

"When you say _him_, you _are_ talking about me, right?" Booth teased her gently. "I mean, if it's easier for you to declare your love for me in the third person…"

Brennan's smothered laugh reassured him.

"So the verdict is in?" Booth continued, "You _admit_ that this is love?"

She sat back, looking him in the eye again and smiling at him reprovingly for making fun of her. Her reply was a single, emphatic, "_YES_."

"Does that mean I can make love to you now?" Booth asked hopefully, his hands once more stroking the tops of her thighs. He gave her that toothy smile that she found so disturbing and yet so compelling.

"I've never actually _made love_ before," she admitted, lifting up long enough to remove the blanket that lay tangled between them.

"Well, it's a lot like having sex," Booth deadpanned, adjusting her in his lap so that he could feel her against his erection.

Brennan shifted until his hard ridge fit snugly pressed up against the crotch of her panties. She moved against him appreciatively, stimulating her own arousal. "Well, if it's just like sex, then I'm going to be very good at this…"

Booth growled something unintelligible and pulled her roughly into an embrace, his mouth attacking hers hungrily. He had to admit that he was afraid she'd again find reasonable doubt and demand love descriptor number six, so his strategy was to severely curtail her ability to speak by any means necessary. As it turned out, he was worrying needlessly.


	17. Chapter 17

**Breaching the Tower Walls**

Brennan's tongue was tangling with his own with equal ferocity, while her hands were tugging on his undershirt. Together they removed it, accidentally flinging it over the rail behind them to the lab floor below.

Running her fingertips once more over the taut muscles of his chest, Brennan marveled at what a fine specimen of the human, male animal he was. Out loud she said, "I didn't realize I would enjoy touching you this much."

Booth shook his head. "Not half as much as I'm going to enjoy touching you," he stated emphatically, lifting his hands to cup and stroke her breasts.

Even through the fine lace, the warmth of his palms was rendering her insides liquid. His thumbs began circling her nipples, triggering a corresponding current of pleasure to flow from her core. Like part of a chain reaction, Brennan began to rock back and forth against the hardness between her thighs, a small moan escaping her. Booth was lifting the camisole over her head, discarding it on the floor. Brennan grasped his head in both hands as his mouth lowered to her bare breast. While he worked his tongue in circles all around her nipples, and then gently sucked, Brennan ground herself against his erection. The pleasant irritation of her arousal was becoming more and more unbearable.

Fondling the round fullness of her breasts and mouthing their satin peaks had put Booth into a delirium of desire. He was only vaguely aware that she was now riding him like a vise. It was only when he felt his hand being guided down inside the front of her panties that everything came into sharp focus.

"Touch me, I need you to touch me now," Brennan demanded in a breathy whisper close to his ear. As he complied, the feel of his fingers sliding into that warm, wet place made her writhe with welcome at his intrusion. "That's it… don't stop…" she begged, lifting herself up on her knees so he could work unhindered.

Suddenly he did stop, moving out from beneath her. "Oh, I think we can do better than that," Booth said huskily, moving her into a sitting position on the sofa, and then lowering himself to his knees. Reaching up he pulled off her panties, pulling her down toward the sofa's edge in the process. He began kissing the inside of her calves, working his way along her inner thighs. Brennan tangled her fingers in his hair, trying to hurry him to his final destination. Booth smiled up at her smugly, but continued kissing in the same, unhurried manner.

"I need to warn you that I'm highly responsive to oral stimulation," Brennan informed him, leaning back on the sofa in readiness.

"Well then it's lucky that you found a guy who is highly turned on by that fact," Booth replied, and then as an afterthought asked, "You're not going to talk the whole time, are you?"

"Not if you're any good at this, I'm not," Brennan grinned down at him. "So give me a reason to stop talking--"

Booth cut her off right then and there by moving his face to nuzzle at the crux of the problem. Pressing his nose into her warm, damp curls, he breathed her scent in deeply. She was all sweetness and musk; intoxicating to his senses. He felt her pelvis tip up to meet his touch and heard the hiss of her indrawn breath. So far, so good.

For her part, Brennan was thinking about pheromones, and was glad that Booth was the kind of man who could respond to them on an instinctual level. Burying his face in her bush was a good sign. She felt a catch in her throat and knew it was that strange emotion coming to the surface again. So this was what lovemaking felt like--like this was the only man she could imagine herself being with, ever again.

A sudden wave of pleasure washed over her, lifting Brennan out of her musings on love, and she realized that Booth's tongue was now meandering on a slow course around her clitoris. The wave repeated itself and her hips lifted of their own volition off the couch.

"Ohhh…" she moaned in approval.

But Booth changed course and was sliding his tongue further down into the valley of her sex, at the same time pushing back on her thighs and opening her up to his explorations. The next thing she knew his tongue was penetrating her, soft yet insistent. As he made love to her in this intimate manner, the sweetest of sensations began to undulate outward from her core, like ripples on a pond's surface.

Brennan's audible sighs were evolving into soft moans that she couldn't hold back, didn't want to hold back. She wanted him to know that what he was doing to her felt amazing.

All too soon Booth was on the move again, heading back up to the site of his previous success. If Brennan regretted his relocation, she didn't for long. Working in short, firm strokes all around her clit, Booth soon had Brennan writhing uncontrollably beneath his mouth and moaning loudly. For a split second, Booth wondered who might be able to hear. He hoped Cam couldn't.

For Brennan, all thought of the outside world had disappeared, and she was completely absorbed by the building sensation that was coursing between her legs. The pleasure was sharper and more intense than before, because Booth was now going for the payoff.

Booth knew he was close when he felt her legs raise and stiffen on either side of him. He listened carefully to her exclamations of pleasure until he knew just the right spot on which to focus his attentions. For good measure, he slid two fingers into her and began rubbing in tandem with his tongue strokes. Soon, her legs were trembling and her cries were escalating.

"Oh my God oh my God oh my God…" sobbed Brennan, as her orgasm reached critical mass and erupted in an overload of sensation. Wave after wave of exquisite pleasure shuddered through her, the delightful tremors coursing all the way down to the tips of her toes.

Working her clit feverishly, Booth still managed to think with enjoyment about how he would later tease her unmercifully about the God-thing. Nothing like going down on a woman to make a believer out of her…

When her orgasm finally abated, Booth collapsed with his cheek resting on Brennan's heaving belly. "Well, you didn't say a word.—at least not anything in a complete sentence. I'll take that as a compliment," Booth glanced up at her, a devilish grin on his face.

Brennan looked down at him thoughtfully, one hand stroking his tousled hair. "It was somehow different than all the other times," she said softly. "Like I was with you completely, and you were with me completely. I could feel _us _and not just our bodies. It felt more… _real._" She looked to him for confirmation.

Booth smiled at her. "That's because we're in love, Bones. That's how people feel who are in love. But," he continued, raising himself back up on the couch next to her and stripping off his boxers in the process, "I don't think we should get involved in a conversation right now, because we haven't finished making love yet. See, I still have this little problem of a hard-on…"

As if to make his point, Booth drew her hand to his penis which now stood out stiffly in dire need of attention. Brennan ran her fingertips over its length before enclosing its girth in her hand. Getting up on her knees, she straddled him once more, all the while keeping a firm hold on his shaft. Booth lifted his hips as she sank down on him, and together they succeeded in impaling her on his pulsating erection.

"Ahhh, that's better…" Booth groaned happily, his eyes closed in ecstasy, his hands ready on her hips.

Not wasting any time, Brennan wrapped her arms around his neck and began to rock back and forth slowly, enjoying the tight feel of his substantial girth within her. She felt his hands move to her buttocks, and he began caressing and kneading them in sync with her movements.

Pressing her forehead to his, Brennan's eyes betrayed her wonder. "This feels so good, so perfect," she murmured, a current of commingled desire and emotion passing between them at that moment.

Booth responded by covering Brennan's mouth and face with fervid kisses. Hands grasping the back of his head, Brennan kissed him back with equal intensity. Below, their conjoined hips began moving together with an erratic urgency, fueled by the growing passion of their kisses.

As Booth thrust up into her sweet tightness, Brennan rocked forward, trying to increase the sensation. Booth was savvy enough to know he needed to add a little friction to the mix, and slid two fingers between them to give her clit an encouraging massage. Apparently, this was all it took. Brennan began to raise and lower herself with increasingly frenzied movements, her arms wrapped around his neck for dear life.

"Yes, right there… don't stop… don't stop…" Brennan was moaning into his ear, her hips out of control as her climax approached. Booth held onto her as best he could while one hand continued to stimulate her clitoris, his own tension building rapidly and threatening to erupt.

Suddenly, Brennan stopped moving and strained against his hand, her whole body trembling with need. Rubbing her clit more vigorously, Booth was soon rewarded by her long, drawn out cry of release. Afterwards, she lay against his chest, breathing heavily, sated and at peace.

She didn't protest as Booth moved her on to her back and reentered her, pulling her legs up alongside his ribcage and thrusting into her with sharp, purposeful intent.

"Uh… uh… uh…" Booth grunted with satisfaction, each stroke bringing him closer to his goal. Brennan smiled sleepily up at him, offering minimal help. She did, however, clench her muscles against him to add resistance, which seemed to speed matters along. Booth began thrusting hard and fast, his face contorted in anticipation.

Still, it took him unawares, and Brennan held him in her arms while he jerked in a spasm of release. "I love you," he groaned into her ear.

Patting him on the back, Brennan replied, "I don't think it counts if you say it while you're ejaculating into someone."

Booth's groan turned into a chuckle, and he collapsed heavily on top of her.

After a few seconds of recovery, Booth noticed that Brennan was lying very still beneath him, eyes closed, her lips turned up in a smile. She was sleeping peacefully.

Moved by the angelic look on her face, Booth kissed her softly on the lips and whispered, "I love you, Bones. And that one counts."


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter published. I have a couple more chapters to do before I can say it's finished, so stay tuned...** **  
**

**Day Break**

"Hey, anybody missing this?" a loud, male voice jolted Booth from a deep sleep.

Opening his eyes reluctantly, Booth squinted against the pale morning light. Through the glass above him the sky looked a rosy pink, signaling the break of dawn. He shifted on his back, wondering why he felt so stiff, and then remembered that he was sleeping on the floor of the lounge. Somebody moved next to him, and he also remembered that he was not alone.

Taking care not to wake Brennan, Booth wrapped one of the blankets around his waist and raised himself with some difficulty to lean over the railing. Down below, Jack Hodgins was standing in his tee-shirt and boxers, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and Booth's underwear in the other.

Finally, seeing that he had an audience, Hodgins called up, "Dude, does this belong to you?"

"Yeah," Booth rasped, rubbing a hand over his eyes to rouse himself. "What time is it, Hodgins?"

"5:45 a.m. You want me to run this up?" Jack continued. To Booth, the scruffy scientist seemed preternaturally lively at this hour of the morning.

"No, just toss it up," Booth instructed, not wanting company. Jack bunched up the undershirt and lobbed it up over the railing.

Remembering to be irritable, he called back down to Hodgins, "It's kind of early in the morning to be waking people up, isn't it?"

"No way," answered Hodgins, "We're burning daylight, Man. Anyways, I was 'up,' if you get my meaning, over an hour ago—and boy, did Angela take full advantage of _that_ situation—and then to top it off I found some _good_ coffee in one of Simpson's gift baskets, and brewed up a whole pot for us. I'm _totally_ energized now," Hodgins finished enthusiastically, heading back towards the staff kitchen. "We're polishing off the last of the bagels, so you'd better rise and shine if you want breakfast."

After Jack had dashed back off to the kitchen, Booth knelt down next to his sleeping partner and shook her gently.

"Bones," he whispered, "C'mon, time to wake up."

She mumbled something and rolled over, ignoring him. He shook her more persistently until she finally opened her eyes. Sitting up, she glared at him at first, and then looked around at her surroundings, the events of the night before coming back to her. Her glare softened into a smile, and she arched her back, stretching.

"Hey, you look _great_ naked first thing in the morning," Booth commented, staring longingly at her full breasts. Now he knew why Hodgins was up at 4:00 this morning. Booth realized that he had missed _his_ window of opportunity.

"What time is it?" Brennan asked, gathering her blanket around her for warmth.

Booth grimaced, "Apparently it's time for us to get up and get dressed before Hodgins wakes the whole place and we lose our chance to exercise a little discretion."

He was about to stand up to start looking for his shorts, but Brennan stayed him with a hand on his arm. "Last night, Booth, everything that we said…" she hesitated, a question in her voice.

Sinking back down next to her, Booth lifted her chin and looked directly into her pale blue eyes. "Hey," he began, smiling at her, "You're _my_ girl now, got it?"

Brennan smiled back, but then gave him a severe look. "That is _so_ sexist, Booth. I'm going to have to set you straight on who belongs to whom now."

"I can hardly wait," Booth teased her.

They stared at each for a few moments, grinning like two cats that had _both_ eaten the canary, knowing that this was the beginning of what would most likely be an extraordinarily challenging relationship.


	19. Chapter 19

**The Ladies' Room**

Having slipped from the lounge unseen, Brennan made a quick stop at her office to grab her clothes from the day before. She was still wearing the blanket and nothing else as she headed for the women's restroom to get cleaned up and dressed. Any hopes she had of avoiding her fellow colleagues before she made herself presentable were lost when she entered the restroom and heard female voices in conversation.

"So what did you tell him?" Brennan heard Cam's voice as she rounded the curved entry to the lavatory.

"I told him we could take a long weekend, as a start—I mean, what do you say to a guy after he's just given you several earth-shattering orgasms? Not to mention the fact that he loves me despite all the _crap_ that I keep unloading on him," Angela had finished telling Cam. She was standing naked in front of a sink, washing her armpits with a damp lab towel and soap from the dispenser.

Cam, leaning against the wall with a cup of coffee, was fully dressed. "I'd say he's one you don't want to lose," she answered, smiling gently at the other woman. "You just let me know when you need that time off."

As Brennan entered, Angela and Cam both looked up in surprise.

"Hey Bren, Angela greeted her, meeting her eyes in the reflection in the mirror in front of her. She was now running the wet towel between her legs, a little self-consciously. "Sorry if this seems uncouth, but I've got Jack all over me, and in me, and… okay, I've said too much already. How'd you sleep last night?"

Cam was now turned towards Brennan, perhaps in order to afford Angela more privacy. To Brennan, however, this had the unintended effect of seeming like a direct confrontation. Brennan returned her look and the color rushed to her cheeks.

Watching her friend in the mirror, the blush did not go unnoticed by Angela. "There's an extra towel over there if you want to take a spit bath too," Angela offered, trying to speak lightly. "Hey, this is kind of like the locker room in junior high, isn't it? Half the girls naked and trying to pretend that they're sophisticated, and the other half waiting for the one private shower stall you're only supposed to use when you're on the rag-- believe it or not, I was actually one of the modest ones…"

"I slept with Booth last night," Brennan announced suddenly.

Angela's mouth fell open, and then her eyes lit up. "Sweetie, that's--" she stopped herself, remembering that Cam was in the room with them. She looked over at Booth's former lover, who was now looking down intently into her coffee cup.

"I wanted to say it and get it out into the open as soon as possible," Brennan was now addressing Cam. "I appreciated your honesty last night—your words provided the impetus I needed to acknowledge—even recognize—the truth about Booth and me that you so clearly observed. And now, my hope is that _our_ professional relationship can continue on as before." Brennan was holding out her hand to Cam, a gesture of goodwill between fellow scientists, and fellow women.

Angela watched in amazement as Cam took the hand proffered.

"It can, and will, Dr. Brennan," Cam answered with emotion choking her voice. "You'll understand if I say that as _woman_, I am not entirely happy with the turn of events, but as a pragmatist, I accept the situation whole-heartedly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to make a few phone calls--the business of getting out of here needs attending to."

As Cam turned to leave, she paused for a second to address Angela. "And _you_, you need to open up your eyes to reality. Hodgins sounds like the best thing that's ever happened to you—don't blow it."

Angela could only nod, abashed and humbled. After Dr. Saroyan was gone, she turned to Brennan and commented, "Now there goes a class act. I thought there'd be screaming and hair pulling and that I'd have to jump in and separate the two of you."

"Just like junior high?" Brennan smiled wanly, and then continued, "No, Dr. Saroyan and I have an understanding. Or should I say, _she_ has the understanding. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be standing here needing to get cleaned up myself." And with that, Brennan dropped her blanket and reached for the extra towel.

Angela looked at her friend affectionately. "Now I can tell you just how ecstatically happy I am for you. I'd hug you, but we're both naked, and that's just a little too Sapphic for my tastes."

"Agreed," Brennan replied, grinning. "Because right now I'm feeling decidedly heterosexual."

"I take it that sex with Booth wasn't a disappointment?" Angela asked, beginning to dress.

Brennan paused, and then answered in all seriousness, "Ange, we didn't have sex. We made_ love_. It was so much better than sex."

Angela smiled. 'You've come a long way, Sweetie. You started out with a pretty steep learning curve, and look at you now—you've mastered _love_."

"Actually, a steep curve implies quick mastery of the skill, whereas I'm sure I still have a long ways to go," Brennan answered, before turning her attention back to her bathing.

"I'll bring you a cup of coffee," Angela grinned, "You must be exhausted from all that _learning_ you did last night."

"Thanks," Brennan smiled back. "And you'd better bring one to Zach, too. I saw him dead to the world on the couch by the vending machines."

Stopping at the doorway, Angela turned and asked, almost as an afterthought, "Where _did_ you and Booth sleep last night?"

"The lounge," Brennan replied casually.

Hands on her hips, Angela shook her head. "Now I'll never be able to go up there and eat donuts again without thinking of the two of you doing the wild thing—you did it on the couch, right?"

Brennan, feigning offense, came back with, "Well, you and Hodgins must have left an inordinate amount of DNA all over your office last night--"

"And this morning," Angela interrupted her gleefully, heading for the doorway.

"My God, Angela… Does the word '_nymphomaniac_' mean anything to you?" Brennan was truly impressed.

"Morning sex is the best—nothing like rolling over and finding a sleeping man with a serious boner…" came Angela's parting words, echoing off the tile walls in her wake.

When she was alone, Brennan sighed to herself in the mirror. Then she remembered that there would be plenty of other mornings, other opportunities, in her future.


	20. Chapter 20

**An Hour Later…**

"Hey, it's like that movie, 'Dawn of the Dead,'" Jack called out, smirking. He was sitting close to Angela at the table in the staff kitchen when Zach entered. "Eat anyone else you like, Dr. Zombie, but Angela's mine."

With concern in her eyes for Zach, Angela gave Jack a sharp prod in the ribs with her elbow.

"I feel as if the volume of blood circulating in my skull has exceeded the capacity of my capillaries to move it around in an efficient manner, and that something is going to burst," groaned Zach, staggering into the kitchen and collapsing in a chair.

"Dude, you don't look so hot," observed Jack, lowering his cup of coffee and regarding his colleague with concerned amusement.

"Yeah," added Angela, studying Zach's disheveled appearance. "You look positively green around the gills."

Zach smiled up at her weakly, "I vomited in the Boston ferns in the foyer. Is there anymore coffee left?"

"You don't drink coffee…" Angela stated, rising to pour him a cup.

"I do now," Zach said miserably, lowering his throbbing head onto his folded arms.

"Did you get into the wine after the rest of us went to bed, because if you did…" Jack began severely, glaring at the unfortunate Zach.

Angela cut Jack off, retorting sharply. "What are you, his _father_?" She turned to Zach sympathetically, "Sweetie, wine hangovers are the worst!"

"No, it wasn't wine," groaned Zach, "It was something more… potent."

"Well, then all I can say is why didn't you share?" Jack continued, unmercifully. Angela's curt look in his direction wiped the grin from his face, causing him to add solemnly, "Sorry about your hangover, Man…"

Zach groaned again. "And that's not even the worst of it…"

"The worst of what?" said Dr. Saroyan, entering the kitchen. She looked at Zach and paused, and then proceeded to the coffee pot to refill her mug.

Zach looked up at her and blanched.

"Our Dr. Addy here has a major hangover. Seems that he got into some mystery spirits last night, but he won't divulge his source," Jack tattled gleefully. For this he received a punch in the arm by a stern Angela.

"Oh," began Cam casually, "I'm sorry you had that reaction to the whiskey, Zach. I probably shouldn't have offered it to you on an empty stomach."

Even Zach looked up in surprise at Dr. Saroyan's admission.

"You were drinking whisky with Cam?" Angela was incredulous.

Zach opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again with a grimace of pain.

"We were discussing what to do about my intern, Julie Duffey. I was having a night cap, so of course I offered Zach a glass. Now, about Dr. Duffey…" Cam turned to Zach, dismissing both Jack and Angela who were still staring with their mouths agape. "I would like to place her under your supervision, Zach. She needs a more… _experienced_ scientist to help her learn the ropes. Of course, you would have to spend a great deal of your time with her, watching her every move carefully, sharing information… well, you get the picture, right?" Cam stared at Zach, her eyebrows arched with meaning.

Zach stared back at her, and then finally breathed out. "Yes, Dr. Saroyan, I _get_ the picture." Actually, Zach had no idea what picture she was talking about, but he understood now that last night's faux pas in her office was going to be forgotten and never spoken of again.

Feeling a lot better on one front, Zach felt suddenly worse on another.

"Excuse me while I…" Zach couldn't finish, but instead ran to the sink to begin heaving.

Angela shot Jack a distressed look. Jack merely shrugged and took another sip of his coffee.

Cam hesitated, and then decided on a quick exit. "Okay, Zach, I hope you feel better… sorry again about the whisky…" she said in parting as she headed back to her office to see about business.

**Two Hours Later…**

It was mid-afternoon when the doors finally opened. Happily, the stranded staff all kept busy in the interim. Dr. Saroyan had spent the better part of the day on the phone coordinating with plant maintenance and checking on their progress. Hodgins had been on his computer looking up weekend travel destinations that Angela might actually agree to. Angela had been forcing Zach to drink water and eat the stale saltines she had found in one of the kitchen cupboards. Brennan had been at work on the bones that had been the cause of their happy misfortune, while Booth sat close by watching her with a new appreciation.

"Bones, the doors are open. We can get out of here now," Booth was saying impatiently, hands on hips, pacing the deck of the platform.

"It's the middle of a work day," Brennan countered, peering closely at some unusual markings on the victim's right clavicle.

Exasperated, Booth stared at her. "You're the only one working as far as I can tell. This is like a get-out-of-work-free card, and you don't even appreciate that fact. Right now you and I could be…" here Booth paused, a little bashful about expressing the wantonness of his thoughts.

Brennan looked up. "You and I could be doing what? Having sex?" She smiled at him, daring him to come out with it.

Booth shifted from one foot to the other before admitting, "Well… yes. All I'm saying is that you and I could be doing something a lot more stimulating that looking at a pile of bones. We're in a relationship now, Temperance. You've got to give a little…" Here Booth moved in close to her, running his fingers along the back of her neck. He grinned at her seductively.

"Okay, you win. But it's only because I'm humoring your male, biological imperative," Brennan said with a sigh, lifting the bones to replace them in their container.

"Excuse me? My _what_?" Booth began, looming over her, a mock frown crossing his features.

"It's a well-known fact that men are more preoccupied with sex than women. I, for example, can focus on my work to the exclusion of my biological needs, knowing that they will be satisfied at a later point in the day. But since you are male and cannot… control… your urges…" Brennan teased, trailing off as Booth backed her up to the railing.

"Well, in that case," Booth's voice rumbled close to her ear, his body pressing against hers, "I'm going to let _my_ urges convince _your_ focus to give it a rest for the day…"

Booth tipped Brennan's head back, covering her mouth with his own, his tongue insistent as it drew hers into play.

Brennan relented immediately, having intended all along to follow his lead. Besides, Booth had a point. This _was_ far more satisfying than looking at bones…

"Let's get out of here before someone notices that I'm not working," Brennan grinned, pulling away from Booth and taking him by the hand. "After all, I've got this love-thing to practice."


	21. Chapter 21

**Getting close to the finish now--probably just an epilogue and this one is done. ** **But here's one more chapter of naughty bits for you all to read and enjoy...**

**Practice Makes Perfect**

A shaft of sunlight filtered through the blinds in Brennan's bedroom, teasing her eyelids open. Reluctantly, she raised herself on one elbow, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was 7:30 a.m., and it was Saturday. It was a good thing too, considering how little sleep she'd received the night before--and the night before that.

The deep breathing next to her signaled that her partner was still asleep. Booth lay on his back, forehead smooth and unlined in the peace of unconsciousness, lips slightly parted. _The perfect specimen of the human male,_ thought Brennan, yet again. A mere thirty hours earlier they had made love for the first time. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Watching him sleep, Brennan felt a wave of tenderness pass through her, and in its wake the warmth of arousal. She was surprised by how quickly her passion rose when she was with this man, and how connected sex now seemed to the new feelings she had in her heart. She knew that she had bonded with Booth, and that that was what love was all about. _Damn!_ She thought for a moment with amusement. _Next thing you know I'll be greeting him at the door dressed in saran wrap and holding out a martini—so much for being highly evolved…_

Raising herself over Booth, Brennan placed the lightest of kisses on his forehead, and then another on his cheek, his chin, his lips. He didn't stir. She traced one finger over his clavicle, marveling at the smooth, taut skin that covered the raised ridge of bone. Centering her finger at the top his sternum, she traced downward, pausing to feel his heartbeat beneath her palm. Continuing on the same path, her hand disappeared beneath the covers. Her fingers now traveled along a soft thread of curling hair, leading her to her final destination. Curved up and over his belly, Booth's morning erection pulsed warmly under Brennan's surreptitious touch. She smiled to herself, remembering Angela's words from the morning before.

Sliding a leg carefully over Booth's torso, Brennan was soon straddling her unwitting partner. This act of stealth aroused her even more, achieving the same effect of liquefying her insides as Booth's absent foreplay. Tentatively, she raised his slumbering erection, and positioned herself over its velvety head. Booth stirred slightly, and she froze. When it was apparent that he was still fast asleep, Brennan centered him like an arrow to her core, working him in deftly centimeter by centimeter, as gently as one might handle an explosive device. The feel of his thick cock, sliding slowly into her while its owner remained oblivious, was an immense turn-on. Once Booth's shaft was buried in her completely, Brennan shuddered at the sensation. She couldn't help but begin rocking, a soft moan immediately escaping her.

Working herself this way and that on his rigid member, Brennan watched Booth's face intently for signs of life. As her movements began to quicken, so did his breathing, and soon his eyelids began to flutter as the tension in his groin began to build. Brennan, however, was growing too intent on her own pleasure to care if she woke him or not.

Taking one of his large hands in her own, Brennan trapped it between their bodies, her fingers curving over his own to position him at the crown of her pelvis. She pressed his fingers firmly against her clit, guiding them to agitate her pleasure. It was at this point that Booth's eyes shot wide open in surprise.

Jolted into consciousness by the liberties being taken with his body, Booth's astonishment quickly transitioned into passion. Locking eyes with Brennan, his communication was unmistakable. He may have been put into the game in the fourth quarter, but he was damn well going to score the winning touchdown. Bucking up into her so violently that she gasped, Booth got a firm grip on Brennan's hips and proceeded to roll her over on her back, making sure not to lose their intimate connection.

"Thought you'd start without me, hmm?" Booth growled appreciatively, his face hovering close above hers. He began moving inside of her with short, hard thrusts, completely disabling her ability to speak. "Well, I think it's fucking fantastic that you did," he continued, stopping briefly to hitch her legs up higher for maximum penetration.

Brennan could only cling to him, gasps of pleasure punctuating every stroke of his hips. She had to admit to herself that she was enjoying the take-charge manhandling he was subjecting her to. _It's frightening how rapidly I continue to de-evolve…_ she mused, before all thought began to fragment and scatter against the growing pulse of pleasure that was agitating her from within.

Pulling her legs up even higher, Brennan worked her arms around Booth's waist and reached down to grab hold of his muscular buttocks. Firmly, she began to direct him; slowing his hips, and then pulling him close to grind against her. Booth caught on quickly, pausing between deep, languid thrusts to rub his pelvis against hers with a circular motion.

"Is that good? Is that how you like it?" Booth whispered, studying her expression for encouragement.

Brennan, eyes half closed in concentration, managed a shallow "Yes," before giving herself over to the inarticulate moans that began to rise in her throat. Grappling with his ass, she became more insistent, and Booth adjusted by quickening the pace. As the friction escalated, so did Brennan's vocalizations, whipping Booth into a frenzy of thrusting.

As her orgasm erupted outward in one shuddering wave of pleasure after another, Brennan cried out in amazement at the intensity of the sensation. It helped that Booth was still going at it full throttle, motivated by the sounds she was making. As her contractions began to ebb, Brennan tightened her hold on his ass, indicating that he shouldn't stop.

"Keep going," she said hoarsely into his ear, "I love you," she added, wanting to keep in practice. For every time she'd said it since the first, it was feeling more natural to her.

Booth, who had been holding out as long as he could, decompressed gladly. A few well-positioned thrusts later, and he was twitching and groaning in her arms--a grateful man. He lay like that for several minutes after, enjoying the fatigue in his muscles and the mingled scent of sex and sweat from their early morning calisthenics.

Finally, pushing him off with gentle insistence, Brennan got up out of bed. "I _really_ have to pee," she informed him, grabbing her robe from off a chair by the bed.

Watching her, a satisfied grin on his face, Booth asked, "So, are you going to ambush me like that on a regular basis? 'Cause, you know, I might really start looking forward to it."

"I might," Brennan answered simply, returning his smile.

If her learning curve had taught her anything, it was that mornings would _never_ be the same again.


	22. Chapter 22

**Epilogue**

Five weeks had passed since the lockdown at the Jeffersonian. Just as the alarms had been readjusted and reset, so had everyone's lives.

Cam, ever the realist, had put the whole Booth-fiasco behind her and began dating a lawyer from the Jeffersonian's legal department. Among his many virtues, he was a dynamo in bed, didn't carry or own a firearm, and _actually_ enjoyed opera.

Zach had earned the gratitude of Dr. Duffey by helping her avoid further blunders in protocol. In exchange for his tutelage, she had invited him over one Friday night for a very different kind of tutorial. As it turned out, she was a very patient mentor. Now it was Zach's turn to be grateful—very grateful.

Brennan, always the quick learner, was soon throwing around the term "love" like _she_ had invented it. Booth was on the verge of becoming annoyed, but was reassured when she lapsed back into her old pattern of speaking which included lectures on the biology behind natural selection and other scientific certainties. When it got to be too much, he'd shut her up with a kiss, which inevitably led to the bedroom. There came a point when he began to suspect that all her talk was just a ploy to get his pants off.

And finally, Jack had convinced Angela to take a long weekend with him. Their destination was to be a surprise to her, and it certainly was.

When the Cantilever Group's private jet landed at the Denver airport, Angela could only look at Jack and say, "Colorado? It isn't even ski season." Jack just smiled and led her to the waiting limo.

Winding their way through a picturesque mountain landscape, Angela began to relax and enjoy the scenery. The southwest was no stranger to her, and she had to admit that she had missed its rarefied air and intense colors.

What Jack was enjoying was the privacy of the limo, and had slipped a hand up under her skirt to stroke the inside of her thigh.

"You going to tell me what all this is about, or is it still a secret?" Angela wheedled, letting her legs fall open seductively.

"You ask too many questions," Jack answered, allowing the pad of his thumb to brush the front of her panties. To further distract her, he leaned in for a kiss, coaxing her mouth to respond like an opening flower. As his thumb continued to caress, Angela's breathing became labored.

"Jack, did you bring me all the way up here just to have sex with me in the back of a limo?" Angela asked between kisses.

"Not exactly, but since the opportunity seems to be presenting itself…" Jack murmured, working his fingers beneath the hem of her panties. He was rewarded by Angela's deep moan of satisfaction.

"Mr. Hodgins, we will be arriving at our destination in about five minutes," the driver's voice sounded over the intercom, abruptly ending their romantic interlude.

"Guess we'll have to save this for the drive back, Baby," Jack said, reluctantly disengaging.

Straightening her skirt, Angela once more looked out the window. Coming into view were high, rose-colored rock formations that jutted up in sharp relief against an azure blue sky, and along the road there was a sign that was a dead give-away.

"You're taking me to a concert?" she asked, pleased, yet confused.

"Oh yeah, but not just _any_ concert," Jack replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

The limo did not enter into the regular parking area, but continued on around to the back of the amphitheater. After parking, a large man wearing a headset approached as they exited the limo.

"Mr. Hodgins? Right this way," he said, escorting them through a doorway reserved for band members and other VIPs.

"Who are we going to see?" Angela persisted, excitement in her voice.

Jack didn't answer, but took her hand as they were led through a series of security doors and winding hallways. They could hear the muted sounds of someone warming up on a guitar, and amplifiers being checked and adjusted.

Finally, they were led through a set of large double doors, and the surprise was revealed to Angela.

"Daddy?" she called out in amazement, recognizing the flamboyant yet scruffy figure who was her father running through the chords on his black Stratocaster.

"Hey, Baby Girl, you made it," the old man called out affectionately, putting down his guitar to hug his daughter. Jack noticed that tears welled in Angela's eyes as her father embraced her.

"I had no idea…" Angela began, her voice choked with emotion. She looked over at Jack, who had thrust his hands into his pockets and was looking a little sheepish.

"So, this is the young fella that I got the call from? Glad to meet you, Son, and thanks for bringing my girl out to see me," Angela's father reached out and shook Jack's hand heartily.

"My pleasure, Sir," Jack responded, wincing from the strength of the man's handshake.

Apparently, Angela's father had a sense of humor. He scrutinized Jack for a moment, and then gave him a playful tug on the chin. "You call this a beard, Son?"

Jack blushed for a moment, not sure what to say. Angela came to his rescue.

"Dad…" she chided him, "Jack can't have a long beard in his line of work… his work is just too… slimy. It would just be too gross."

Jack wasn't sure she'd made him feel any better about his inadequate facial hair, but her father was satisfied.

"Well, at least he's got the _cahones_ to grow one in the first place!" her father laughed approvingly, slapping Jack on the back. "We need to get out on stage now, so George over there will take you to your seats and get you set up. Afterwards, I know a great little Mexican restaurant where we can get caught up, and I can get to know your friend here."

He kissed his daughter on the cheek, and picking up his guitar, exited to the stage.

Angela stared after him for a few moments, and then turned to Jack.

"You are unbelievable, you know that?" she took him by the lapels of his collar and gave them a gentle yank. "What did I ever do to deserve an incredible boyfriend like you?"

"By being an incredible person yourself," Jack answered sincerely, pulling her close to him and hugging her tightly. "Since I can't give you back the time you missed with your father growing up, maybe I can at least give you more moments with him in the future."

Angela pulled away long enough to gaze at him, the adoration evident in her eyes.

"Jack Hodgins, I love you."

_Finis._


End file.
